booktalesy Chapter 8 Fighting for Water
Chapter 8 Fighting for Water
Fang Jianqiu moved quickly, and it didn't take him long to go back and forth.
Fortunately, they weren't bothered by the foreign supervisors; I guess they were all resting and having fun in their respective areas at this time.
I almost got taken advantage of by the plump shop owner.
"Luckily, my buddy ran fast."
Thinking of the appearance of those American heavy tanks, Fang Jianqiu shuddered inexplicably. He lifted the burlap sack in his hand and sighed:
"This godforsaken place really tries to squeeze every last drop out of you; it costs $5 for this little bit of stuff."
There weren't many things in the bag:
The bag itself, 50 cents.
A wooden cup, and various other odds and ends, $1.
Fang Jianqiu had expected that the few loose tobacco bags would be the most expensive item, but they were only 10 cents each. So he spent a dollar to buy ten bags.
Of course, it wasn't all given to that old man.
It's easy to see that this kind of tobacco must have been a hard currency among the workers, and it might have other uses later.
He used the remaining four dollars to buy food.
A whole bag of rice, six cans of sardines, and a few pieces of cured pork.
There were no vegetables, because Fang Jianqiu had other plans.
In any case, the ingredients sold in stores are more hygienic than the food provided by this plantation.
These ingredients were necessary to prevent his body from being attacked from within by those pig-like foods.
When Fang Jianqiu returned to the labor camp carrying two burlap sacks, one large and one small, he immediately noticed something was wrong.
The previously lifeless atmosphere in the camp disappeared, replaced by a bustling and noisy scene.
"Have they rested enough and started their leisure activities?"
He thought for a moment, then stepped inside.
As soon as I got closer, I realized I had guessed wrong.
On the muddy open ground, two groups of people were facing each other like fighting cocks, their eyes red with anger.
On the left was a group of people, all with buzz cuts, some with white cloth strips tied around their heads, wearing short clothes that were clearly modified in a Japanese style, and wooden clogs or straw sandals on their feet.
Most of them were short and had obvious bowlegs, but they all had stiff necks and expressions that were both fierce and somewhat lewdly fanatical, while spitting out gibberish.
The group on the right all had long braids, wore faded coarse cloth clothes, and mostly wore cloth shoes or went barefoot.
Although this group appeared to be slightly smaller in number and all of them were pale and thin, seemingly malnourished, their long-suppressed anger seemed to be ignited at this moment, and their eyes revealed a resolute determination.
There were also some other ethnic groups of laborers around, such as blacks and Indians, who stood on the periphery with their arms crossed, making a fuss and enjoying the spectacle.
The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder.
"You idiot! You Chinese pig! Get out of here! This water is ours!" A Japanese man, who was leading the group, pointed across the street and cursed, spitting as he spoke.
"Fuck you little devils! You bunch of Japanese dwarfs! That's public water! Who the hell gave you permission to cut off the water?" The Chinese side wasn't about to back down either; a man with a heavy Cantonese accent retorted.
"That's the water we use to grow vegetables! They've all died from drought! You bunch of good-for-nothings!"
"Die! (Go to death!)"
"Fuck your grandma!"
Although Fang Jianqiu had never systematically studied Japanese, as a model youth of the new era, he had received countless hours of earnest instruction from virtuous and talented Japanese teachers.
Therefore, although I can't speak very well, I can still understand some of what they say.
However, they were just exchanging meaningless trash talk, and he walked towards his residence after listening for a short while.
As I entered, I saw the old man in shackles sitting on the wooden bed, looking out with great interest.
Then Fang Jianqiu noticed that the bed he had just reserved was now occupied by someone.
Just by looking at his buzz cut and mustache, you could tell he was a Japanese-American.
The old man in shackles also saw Fang Jianqiu and noticed the burlap sack in his hand. His eyes lit up, and he was about to say something when he saw Fang Jianqiu looking at the Japanese man.
He immediately coughed lightly:
"Hey~ young man, don't blame this old man for not doing his job. When this little Japanese guy came, I reminded him that the bed was taken, but he ignored me and just got in."
"How dare I, a man about to be buried, argue with him?"
Upon hearing this, Fang Jianqiu simply nodded, but instead of immediately going to the Japanese soldier's bed, he asked:
"Don't blame yourself, sir. It's nothing. Here's a cigarette for you. I'll also ask what the situation is like outside."
Fang Jianqiu put down the rice bag, freed his hand, took out a bag of tobacco, and handed it to the old man in shackles.
"Hehehe, young brother, you really keep your word. Don't be so polite. My name is Xiao Yuanshan, you can call me whatever you want. As for the group of people outside, hehe, they're an old slump."
Old man Xiao Yuanshan happily took the tobacco pouch, pinched off a bit of tobacco, put it under his nose, took a deep breath, and showed a look of intoxication on his face.
He then took out the cigarette paper on it, rolled up a cigarette with great skill, and continued to explain the situation to Fang Jianqiu.
Soon, Fang Jianqiu basically understood what the two groups of people were up to.
Just two words: fighting for water.
Japanese people need to boil water for bathing.
The Chinese man wanted to use the water to water the vegetables.
Without exception, they all require a considerable amount of water.
This campsite is only accessible by a small stream, which is the only source of water for the camp.
Both sides had originally reached an agreement.
Each month, Japanese residents are given five opportunities to fill water tanks for bathing, and the remaining time is used fairly by everyone, with priority given to Chinese residents for growing vegetables.
Although it seems that Chinese people use more water, this dish is not enjoyed exclusively by them. They share some with other ethnic groups, which is a mutually beneficial arrangement.
However, the recent drought has caused the stream water level to drop significantly.
These Japanese immigrants, obsessed with storing water for bathing, secretly built a dam upstream to block the flow.
They were found to have violated the agreement multiple times.
Today, when the Chinese laborers returned, they found that the cabbages and scallions they had worked so hard to grow had withered and died.
For these Qing Dynasty farmers who valued their land and crops more than their own lives, this was tantamount to desecrating their ancestral graves.
These Qing Dynasty peasants, who had endured their entire lives, finally could no longer hold back.
And so the conflict erupted.
"Brother Xiao explained it clearly, I understand. But, with them making such a fuss, aren't the foremen doing anything about it?"
"Who cares? Why do you think they'd let several groups of people who can't even communicate speak the same language live together? It's just to watch them fight it out. What's that saying again: 'divide and conquer'!"
"They'd love for the conflict to escalate; as long as no one gets killed, who cares?"
After hearing this, Fang Jianqiu seemed to be thinking about something, then put down the sack and looked at the crowd outside the room.
At this point, the emotions of both groups became increasingly agitated, and they were already pushing and shoving each other. It was just a matter of time before a spark ignited the entire scene.
However, due to policy changes in recent years, the number of people of Japanese descent is significantly larger than that of people of Chinese descent, thus the Chinese side is at a considerable disadvantage.
But these old farmers, who were used to being bullied by honest officials and foreign devils, did not back down an inch at this moment.
Fang Jianqiu stepped away, but not to leave; instead, he walked toward the Japanese soldier who had taken his bed.
The guy was kneeling on the wooden bed, with something in his mouth, making smacking sounds. He would occasionally rub the mud off his body, roll it into black mud balls, and then flick them onto the bed or into the passageway below.
"This bed is no good..."
Thinking this, Fang Jianqiu went to the bedside.
The bed wasn't high, only reaching Fang Jianqiu's chest. He reached out and patted the bed board, drawing the attention of the little Japanese soldier who was concentrating on rubbing dust.
Then he pointed to the stone on the bed, then to himself, then to the Japanese soldiers, and finally waved his hand as if shooing away flies.
The meaning is self-evident.
"Get off my bed."
This body language is very simple; anyone with normal intelligence should be able to understand it quickly.
Fortunately, that little Japanese soldier did have some brains, otherwise he wouldn't have tried to steal the top bunk.
「お前はどこの马のboneだ?このplaceは俺様がoccupationしたんだ! Qingguo slavesはあっちへ行け!」
(Who do you think you are? This spot is mine! Qing Dynasty lackeys, get out of my way!)
The guy shouted, spitting as he spoke, and even picked up a stone from the bed, pretending to smash it.
Fang Jianqiu roughly understood what he said, especially the pronunciation of "Qing slave," which he heard particularly clearly.
"Heh, I can't touch those foreigners with guns for now, but do you think I'd let you, a Japanese pirate, have your way with me?"
Fang Jianqiu said softly.
The Japanese soldier even leaned over to try and hear what Fang Jianqiu was saying.
That's perfect.
Fang Jianqiu's right hand suddenly shot out and grabbed the Japanese soldier's neck.
"Well!"
The Japanese soldier's curses were instantly cut off in his throat, and his eyes bulged out.
Then, with a sudden tug, he dragged her off the wooden bed and onto the ground.
His hip bone collided with the hard ground without any cushioning, producing a chilling thud.
The pain immediately turned the Japanese soldier's face red, but because his neck was being gripped, he could only make suffocating "gurgling" sounds. He desperately scratched at Fang Jianqiu's arm with both hands, but it was like an ant trying to shake a tree.
"As long as no one dies, it's fine..."
Fang Jianqiu loosened his grip on the Japanese soldier's neck and instead grabbed the back of his neck, where the hair was longer and easier to hold.
With their tracheas freed, the Japanese soldiers were finally able to cry out in pain.
"Baka! Ah—!"
"Snapped!"
A crisp, clear slap echoed his scream.
What's the most hurtful yet harmless way to hit someone? Slapping them across the face is definitely one of the best.
The Japanese soldier was stunned by the slap. His mouth was open, and the thing he had been holding fell out—it turned out to be a dried plum pit.
"Snapped!"
Fang Jianqiu slapped him again with his backhand!
A balance of left and right, symmetrical aesthetics.
"Hiss~ This young man Fang is really ruthless."
Old Man Xiao was watching from not far away, saying this but keeping his eyes fixed on the scene.
"Ouch! I fell! Ouch! Ouch!"
The Japanese soldier finally came to his senses and dared not curse anymore. He covered his face, which was swollen like a pig's head, and let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered.
This finally alerted the crowd standing outside.
The two sides, who were pushing and shoving each other and hurling insults, stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them.
This discovery immediately caused an uproar.
"You idiot! You Chinese pig! What are you doing?!"